


Five Ways To Bottom

by sugartrash



Category: Firefly
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Improvised Sex Toys, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of Blood and Gore, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Weapons, Weapons Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugartrash/pseuds/sugartrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working title was: Five times Jayne Cobb took it up the ass. </p><p><b>1. Rael:</b> old enough to know better, dumb enough to do it anyway.<br/><b>2. Preacher:</b> Jayne finds a suitable way to work off his debt to a small town.<br/><b>3. Lorraine:</b> visit a whore on her off hours, you best compromise<br/><b>4. Vera:</b> some things are sacred between a man and his gun<br/><b>5. River:</b> Serenity's weapons gotta stick together (one year post-movie)</p><hr/>
            </blockquote>





	Five Ways To Bottom

Jayne Cobb will be the first person to tell you there's not a damn thing unmanly about taking it up the ass. He might tell you with a gun in your face or maybe his fist but he's got his opinion about it and you best not argue. There's five times, in particular, that he remembers fondly. Two of ‘em are ongoing concerns.

 

* * *

 

**1\. Rael**

Jayne and Rael grew up like almost-brothers which, where they were raised, meant more than scrapping over the last piece of bread and talking each other into all manner of bad ideas. Looking back, Rael puts Jayne in mind of a weird mix of Mal and River—mix of smart and crazy and a lot of handsome as well as that eerie kinda dancing way of moving. Rael had hair like River's, too, with skin the colour of Book's and shoulders near as wide as Mal's. Rael was a son of a bitch and they deserved each other.

They did their share of fooling around as boys, like boys do. Jerking off together, touching each other, trying out sucking each other off. That's how Jayne first found out sucking dick wasn't his thing but he wasn't ever one to pass up a helping hand when it came to getting off.

It was kind of an accident more than anything else that they ended up fucking years after they'd outgrown that teenage fumbling. Both of them were naked and wet and scrapping down at the swimming hole one hot summer day when they were more'n old enough to know better. Jayne was stronger but Rael was faster and had him in this vicious neck hold that made Jayne's sight dim to red and then black. Jayne can't remember why they were fighting, they fought over everything and nothing just for the hell of it.

"Give." Rael was breathless but laughing at once.

"Nuhuh." It was all Jayne could get out. It was all he could do to keep his face out of the six inches of warm, brown water they were rolling in.

"Yuhuh." Rael's grip tightened and Jayne should have been panicking or something but instead he was distracted by the slide of Rael's hard dick against the curve of his ass and his choke-addled brain got wondering what it would feel like to have that in him.

Queers got up to that shit but Jayne wasn't any queer. Still, his body rolled his hips without his permission, water sloshed around them, and Rael's dick pressed up against his hole. Rael's grip on him slid enough for Jayne to suck in air and then they both moaned with how good it felt.

Well hell. Feeling good and winning wasn't any joke. Jayne breathed again and pushed back, bore down, and somehow—though it stung like a bitch—Rael was inside him.

"Shitfuckdamn," Rael said in his ear. "Jayne, I…"

"Shut up and fuck." Jayne's knees slid against the algae-slick smooth stone of the shallows, his nails raked up the green as he rocked under Rael's wire-taut body.

Rael stopped trying to choke the life outta him and settled for fucking the hell outta him instead. Better than Jayne ever imagined it was gonna be, maybe he was just hooked up weird that the thrust of Rael's dick into his hole made him howl with pleasure. He got one hand under himself, trying not to drown while he was at it, and jerked off in time with Rael pounding his ass.

Jayne came first, a head to toe kinda thing that left him stunned. Rael got off half a minute later, bucking against him before going limp. Jayne gave Rael all of a second to breathe—on account of them being friends--before flipping him over into the water and climbing on top of him. Rael was faster but Jayne was bigger and with both hands on Rael's throat, he had things under control.

Jayne held tight until he caught that flicker of panic in Rael's blue-black eyes and Rael tapped out.

"Fuck you, I win," Jayne spat, rolling off him.

"Fuck me?" Rael grabbed his half-hard dick and stroked it a couple more times, milking another jet of spunk out of it with a groan. "You mighta won but I'm pretty sure I just did the fucking."

 

* * *

 

 

**2\. Preacher**

Life as a no-good law-breakin' dog had its ups and downs. One night when Jayne was jammed up in a cell on some backassward border planet, he was deep in one of those downs. Pretty much all his crew was dead, what there'd been of it, and his boss had turned coat—or maybe he'd been playing them all along to get the bounty for their heads. Townsfolk hung him up anyhow, not being inclined to share. Only blessing for Jayne was he was too damn much of a nobody to be worth the fuel to truck his hide to the nearest outpost.

So here he was in what amounted to a cage in a manager's shack—nobody out this way had time for jail, they just hung folks up and shipped out the identifiable parts for credit. The rest went to the pigs. That had given Jayne some pause when it came to dinner and he'd skipped the sausages.

"What are we gonna do with you, boy?"

Boy. The man in the white collar—some kinda cross between the preacher and the law—was hardly Jayne's age. Hard-looking, though, with pock-marked sun-red skin and a ragged scar pulling one corner of his mouth up into a perpetual smirk. Jayne wished he had a scar that cool. Made up for the long black preacher dress that brushed the top of the man's big boots.

"I'm guessin' you could let me go, if you don't want the trouble of killin' me." Jayne sprawled in the corner of the cage, too hot and too thirsty to care about living or dying. He hadn't had a drink since before dawn. "Don't suppose your Bible says shit about giving a man a drink when he's in need?"

"It does indeed." The preacher was kitted out with a fine-looking shotgun and ammo and at his waist he had some kinda Bible made for wearing and a canteen on the other hip, which had put Jayne in mind of asking about it. "It says a man should be given his share of the Lord's gifts and even the wastrel should not starve nor suffer."

"That why you hang folks so quick?"

"Indeed." The preacher passed the canteen through the bars.

"How come you ain't hung me yet?" Jayne drank deep, though the water was stale and warm. Best thing he'd ever tasted.

"You're a poor shot, boy. And you're young. It's our way to pardon idiots." The preacher looked him over head to toe with this look in his eye Jayne recognized on account of him looking at women the same way. "Suppose you could make restitution and earn your way outta town."

"When do I start?" Jayne got up to bring the canteen back, shackles clanking as he moved.

"What have you got to offer the people you've wronged?" The preacher slid the canteen back into its spot at his hip. He wasn't tall but he was built like a bull.

"Nothin' much but my labour." Jayne leaned up against the cage bars, rolled his hips against them in a way no one could mistake. He wasn't in the mood to muck stables in this brutal heat. "You're welcome to it."

"Why don't you kneel down, boy?" the preacher suggested. Jayne wasn't keen on sucking dick, either.

"How about I bend over," he bartered. "Desk looks a good height." That's how he ended up face down in paperwork, shackled hands on his own dick, bare ass in the air.

It wasn't bad—kinda good actually. The preacher seemed to like what he was about, took his time all polite getting Jayne loose and needy with his work-hard fingers. He stank of sweat and gun oil and incense from church service, all good smells.

Smart man too, jamming a bandana in Jayne's mouth before he got to work ploughing Jayne like a new field to be broken. He long-dicked Jayne until Jayne's knees went out and his hands were sticky with his own spunk from coming in spite of himself. The preacher came long and hard at last, filling Jayne with more seed than any man had a right to be walking around with in his balls.

Three days and nights came and went before the cage door was unlocked. It was like a vacation, except for the threat of hanging. Jayne staggered out into the world, body aching and drained.

Some part of him wondered if he couldn't have just stayed, how bad that would have been playing handyman for the town preacher. But then he'd have to eat the pork that fed the town and that was too much like eating people. He had standards, such as they were.

 

* * *

 

**3\. Lorraine**

Lorraine. Every man needed a whore in his life like Lorraine. She wasn't fancy and soft like Inara but she had this look like a queen that made Jayne kinda weak. She used to be a soldier back in the war, put him in mind of Zoe that way, but then she turned to turning tricks to make ends meet for her and a baby some man put in her when she wasn't wanting it.

She liked the kid well enough to keep it, though, and be kind to it and maybe that was why Jayne liked her so much—that and the way she had about her. She didn't come up to even his breastbone but she walked like she was ten feet tall and kept her hair shaved clean off and had skin the colour of gold bars.

First time he met her she was off duty but she was the only whore free in the bawdy house. Didn't have her wig nor her finery on, nothing but a pair of sack pants tied at the waist, and had the baby to her breast.

"I ain't in the mood for being fucked, I got my money for the week, don't know why you're here." She patted the baby's backside as it nursed.

"I got three hours on solid ground," Jayne snapped, undoing his belt as he walked in without waiting for her invitation. "Your missus said I could come on up and I already paid. I'll take whatever you've got. I tip good." Truth was, he'd have paid her for a kind touch. Some days a man just got down and couldn't get up on his own.

"Get washed." She nodded toward the wash basin. "I'll see to you when I'm done with this one."

Jayne stripped down and washed from behind his ears to behind his balls to between his toes, like his mama taught him. Didn't pay to be rude to someone about to have your dick in their hand. He heard the slow creak of a cradle rock and then she came out from behind the screen.

"There." She pointed him toward a worn chaise with a throw covering most of it. "Sit." All business. When she got close, he put his hand out to touch the soft, striped skin of her belly and she batted his hand away. "What'd she charge you for?"

"Fuckin'." Jayne met her eyes as he brought his hand back up but he stopped before touching her again. "But I don't give a good goddamn what you do so long as you do it for as long as I got."

"You got a thing for this?" She gestured to her breasts and belly.

"If you want." Jayne shrugged. "Don't much care otherwise."

"I only got time for one baby. So we're clear." Lorraine took his hand and put it against her skin. She was warm and soft, her belly rounded out a little over her waistband. "What do you like?"

"Touchin'," Jayne admitted. He pressed a kiss to her belly, tongued her navel. "Kissin'." Lorraine ran her hands over his cropped hair, stroked the back of his neck. Felt like he was hypnotized by one of them magician tricksters in the stage shows. "Fuckin'." He was hard already and ready to tell her anything she wanted to hear. "Hell, gettin' fucked. Gettin' sucked. Kissin' down here, too." He cupped her crotch through her thin pants. "If you want."

"Fair enough." Lorraine undid her pants and let them fall. "Get down." She grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him to kneeling between her feet. "I'm off-duty, you can do some of the work." She guided his mouth to her damp cunt and he slid his tongue between her curls with a moan.

She was a harsh mistress, demanding. Rode Jayne's mouth to three orgasms in a row; his neck ached and his tongue cramped, and he'd have paid twice for it. No fingers, she wouldn't let him touch inside her, but she let him get his tongue up in her until he forgot to breathe.

"Enough." Lorraine slapped him on the cheek. "Get up there, on your knees, hands on the back."

There was a mirror behind the chaise, Jayne could see himself and her in it. Guessed it was for the benefit of those who wanted to watch themselves get their money's worth.

"You're actin' like a man who needs his ass serviced." She pulled a box out from under the chaise, started sliding on something that looked like a bridle, only it went over her thighs and hips. "Keep this around for the ladies but it'll do you as good." When she got it sorted, it was some kinda harness that held a sculpted dick against her crotchbone and she started greasing it up like a real dick.

"You want some?" she offered him her slick hand and he knelt up to let her stroke him and then her in turn until he couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop playing with that goddamn thing and put it in me," he hissed. He got a smack in the face for his manners but she gave him what she wanted.

Lorraine was so tiny but she knew how to fuck, got deep in him and made him howl. Her tits bounced and her belly rippled as she took him hard, hands on his hips. Every time he tried to back up into her, she smacked his ass and pulled out until he settled down. When she raked her nails down his back, he realized she was aiming to come again.

"Hand on your dick," she ordered, eyes on his in the mirror. Jayne wouldn't take anyone talking to him like that any other time but she had him good. "Jerk it hard, I wanna see you shoot."

Jayne did what she ordered, watching her and them himself in the mirror. His hand on his dick felt incredible with her dick up his ass and he didn't last long. His balls clenched then he was shaking and coming, shooting spunk over the back of the chaise far enough to spatter the mirror. That brought her off, or almost, and she pulled out to finish herself with one hand, grabbing at her tits with the other as she came.

"Wonder if I shouldn't be paying you." She pushed her fingers into his ass and his dick twitched, dripping fresh spunk. "But guess you got what you came for." She pulled her fingers out of him. "Get dressed. You wanna leave me something, put it by the basin."

Jayne knew when he was dismissed. Didn't mean he couldn't come back, and he did. Hadn't seen her since the kid was walking but he remembered her a lot, especially at night in his bunk.

 

* * *

 

**4\. Vera**

Jayne loved guns near as much as he loved women. Sometimes they got him tingling in places guns shouldn't make a man tingle. Vera was like that. God, she was a beauty. Saved his life over and over. No reason she shouldn't turn him on. She was better to him than most folks he'd met. He'd slept deep with her in his arms in some damned inhospitable places and it was all down to her and her gorgeous inner workings.

He wasn't the only one to feel that way about guns, either. In the right places, a man could find more things for his gun than sights and bayonets. Man's gun had to be an all-purpose best friend in the field. Until Vera, though, he'd never thought of buying anything of the sort.

Life on Serenity could be damn lonely and sometimes it felt like Vera was the only one that understood him. She was warm under his cheek at night and, after the first encounter with Reavers, he needed her there. He couldn't imagine fucking her, though. She was too good for that. If anyone was in charge between them, it was her. So he bought her something to show her how he felt.

When he put it on her, she looked like a whole new weapon. Still deadly but sexy at once. Her dick was bigger than his, as it should be, big enough to make him nervous. He slid her ammo out of her and cleared her chamber like he was undressing a lover. By the time she was safe to handle, he was hard.

Jayne was sure he was crazy but this life made a man that way. Surrounded by women he couldn't have, lower on the ladder even than the skinny, useless doctor, despised by pretty much all of them and rightly so. He'd never been a good man, didn't fuckin' know how. Vera was all he had. He stripped himself bare and laid down in the bed with her, as he always did.

"You know I'd never do anything you don't want, baby," he whispered to her. He rubbed his cheek against her cold-and-glossy chrome dick while he fingered himself to get ready for her. The way she warmed up with his body heat felt like permission.

She was heavy and awkward and even though Jayne slicked her up he had no idea how he was going to fit her in much less handle her. He settled for lying on his side, her weight on the bed and her dick pressed up against his hole as he worked her in. Maybe next time he'd use her strap to fix her to the bars at the end of the bunk, but only if she was into that.

By the time Jayne got her into him, he was biting the pillow to stifle his noises and the bed under his dick was wet with his need. He pushed her all the way home at once, hand tight on her barrel, and nearly spewed right there.

Somehow he made it onto his knees, one hand on her between his legs to hold her while she fucked him, her butt between his heels. It was good this way, he was silenced by his pillow and had his other hand free to tug his nipples and his dick. With her, he felt different, alive all over his skin, maybe because he trusted her.

The way he rocked, she fucked him with long strokes, almost popping out of him except that the swollen head of her dick gave him warning that he was about to lose her. His own dick dripped all over his hand and the sheets, he didn't need any more slick to jerk off. She was so goddamn good to him and he was so damn unworthy of her.

"Vera, please." Jayne whined into his spit-wet pillow as he lost control. Spunk hit his chest and throat, Vera bit into his calves and thighs as he clenched her tight and rode her so hard he knew he'd gone too far. Worth it. He slumped into his own spunk, shuddering with relief.

"That's my girl." He reached behind him to draw her out; she left him feeling so empty when she was gone.

Jayne was almost too tired to clean and load her but he knew he had to take care of his girl right, especially when she was so good to him. He tucked her private piece away and polished her up even though he was nearly limp with the pleasure of being fucked so hard.

"I'm sorry," he murmured to her as he tucked them both in. She was warm and familiar and forgiving under his hands. Didn't matter what he did, she'd always save him. "Never shoulda thought of giving you away."

Jayne pressed a kiss to her barrel, curled his tongue along her steel. He couldn't have asked for better. "Gonna get your name tattooed on me, baby," he promised. On his wrist, maybe. Or on his finger, like a wedding band. She deserved it.

 

* * *

 

**5\. River**

Six months and then a year without Wash. River grew into the pilot's seat and womanhood even though she stayed small and mad, Jayne skipped in and out of time like a flicked stone. He couldn't stay too long in the world, the Reavers still gnawed at him. Vera comforted him and so did his other loves, all the guns that leapt and rumbled and burst under his hands on the firing range. They were what he had.

Mal and Zoe and Inara were married in that way that people got in their grief and guilt, like Wash dying was a vow they all made to each other. It was good though because Mal and Inara held Zoe up and held onto each other in a way Jayne didn't understand. No damn idea how Serenity flew either, but he sailed on her still, same as he followed the others.

Kaylee and Simon married for real and Jayne's grudges were long gone and buried with the way they'd all been before Wash died. When he picked up his guns it was as much for them two as anyone else. He still walked with a swagger and talked with a growl and he cussed and swore and fucked whores but it wasn't the same.

Nights came according to the setting of the clocks and Jayne paced through most of 'em. If Book was around, Jayne might've turned to him for some Bible comfort and that was stranger than anything. Woulda helped if he had a damn clue how to pray that wasn't "God, let the other guy die first."

When River was in the cockpit, he paced Serenity like a penned bull. She didn't give a good goddamn for him and Jayne liked her for that. Mal, on the other hand, tried to care and it rubbed everyone the wrong way. The attention it brought was an ill wind that carried the inescapable question: why Wash, why not him? Mal was on deck tonight so Jayne was locked up in his cabin, perched on the edge of the bed, Vera on his pillow, Jayne's hands trapped between his knees while his brain ran circles in his skull.

"You should let her sleep." River unfolded from the vent that blasted hot air into his space at all the wrong times. For a moment, she hung like a Reaver kill, hands pressed to the sides of the vent and nothing else holding her up. She let her boots fall off her feet, then dropped beside them.

"Who?" Jayne backed up against the wall; his body knew when it was being hunted.

"Your gun." River tilted her head slowly until she was looking at him sideways. She got more sane with the passing days but she was still mad as a rabid dog under it all, as far as Jayne figured. "Your lover. You need to let her rest. You need to rest."

Her dress hung funny on her but Jayne couldn't work out why before she hitched up her skirts, baring her legs as she crawled up into his bed after him.

"I ain't sleepin' with you in here." He reached for Vera but River intercepted his hand, twining her fingers with his.

"Rest not sleep." River wove back and forth like her name, like cutting through a dry land, as she cupped his scorching cheek with her other hand. "Man can sleep a hundred years and never rest."

"You can fly all you like, you're still crazy, girl." Jayne was rigid, wanted to throw her across the room but he feared her the way he feared Vera—he just understood her less, didn't know her triggers or her sights.

"They're eating you alive," she crooned. Her hair fell around them like a real night. It was wet from bathing, cool and scented. "The Reavers." Her breath brushed Jayne's mouth. "Poor soul. Poor gun. Don't be afraid. I'm here."

"The hell are you talking about?" Jayne closed his eyes like that would keep her from reading him.

"You're afraid." River put his hand to the small of her back so she could stroke his face with both hands. "You're terrible and broken and cruel, you murder like a gun, so we keep you like a gun. Point and shoot. No one cleans you out, do they?" She kissed him then, so sweetly that it made Jayne's heart skip. His skin was lonely like a world too harsh to colonize. "Gotta tend your weapons. I'm here to tend you. You have Vera. I have you. I'm good with guns."

Jayne was going to tell her to get out but she was so lean in his hands, she was a weapon herself, one that gave real comfort with real flesh.

"You're the gun, I'm the blade," she whispered in Jayne's ear as she drew his head down to her breasts, pressed his face against her calico and lace. "Gotta stick together, you and me, keep the rest safe."

"You wanna fuck, we'll fuck." Jayne grabbed her ass with both hands to pull her against him but something bumped his belly before he got her close.

"I'm hard." River pulled her skirts up to reveal a curving pink dick jutting up from the shadows between her thighs. "See what you do to me?" She peeled her dress off all at once, left herself bare except for black leather straps digging into her pale hips and that pink synthetic erection. It was almost the same colour as her hard nipples. "I want to fuck you, pretty gun. I want to keep you safe. Everyone else has someone to fuck. It's just you and me alone in the weapons locker. I got a penis from Inara because I know you like them sometimes. Me, too."

"I'll take it." Jayne kept his gaze on River's as he leaned in to lick one of her breasts. She was so focused and clear, there was none of the wandering little mad girl in her. She might be crazy but she knew herself.

"I want to see you." River got up and drew him to standing. "Take your clothes off." She fell back into his bed, one hand on Vera and one hand on her dick.

"Don't worry," she whispered to Vera. Her fingers traced Vera's workings. "We can share. Maybe you can fuck me later." Jayne didn't know he'd made a noise until River smiled. "I wouldn't take you away from your best girl. Now get naked." This time, her tone was sharp.

Jayne had been naked a lot in front of a lot of people but River made him antsy. No one ever looked at him the way he thought he must look when he handled his guns—kinda thirsty, kinda proud, kinda wanting. The way she lay splayed out he could see that the dick curled up into her cunt so she felt it as she jerked it the way he jerked his own when he was feeling lazy and good. He dropped his clothes on the end of the bed.

"Well?" He crossed his arms over his chest, looked down at her. His dick jutted out, foreskin already sliding back, head shiny. "We gonna do this?"

"I like yours." River leaned forward and flicked her tongue against the wetness so he twitched head to toe. "Get down and suck mine." She slid to the edge of the bed and waited, feet apart, leaning back on her hands.

River wasn't about to brook any arguing with that look on her face so Jayne got down on his knees. It was awkward at first, he hated sucking dick, but hers was clean and smooth and smelled of woman-sex. Her little gasps didn't hurt either and he got into it, going down on her dick until it ran with his spit and he gagged on it from taking it deep.

Whatever kind of toy it was, it must have been fancy being Inara's and all, probably let her feel everything. River started to rock like it was real, like she was getting everything he got he did when he got blown.

"Yes, don't stop," she whispered. "So pretty, Jayne, you're the prettiest when you suck my dick. Gonna come and then fuck you, pretty thing." Her cries bounced off the walls as she climaxed. Mal was gonna kill Jayne if he heard. Jayne pulled off her dick to tell her to hush.

"You wanna get me dead?"

"Mal can go fuck himself. I want to fuck you." River lunged like a snake striking, kissed him hard. "You wanted me so long, greedy and hateful, scared of me and thinking you could put your angry cock in me and not be afraid. That's not how you get to stop being afraid, silly man."

Jayne was filled with a rush of shame that she knew, she wasn't supposed to know those thoughts. He'd never do such a thing to her but she was right. "Sorry. I'm sorry, River." The words came out of his tight throat in little pieces.

"I forgive you," River crooned. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissed his face over and over. "We're all mad here. I was never afraid. If you fight me, I'll win. Every time. Even if you kill me, I win."

She was right. Her breasts were wet and Jayne realized he was crying.

"Get in bed," she ordered between kisses. "On your knees. Ass up, baby. Get ready for me like you get ready for your other lovers."

Jayne did what she said; she let him keep Vera under the pillow and stood by the bed to watch. This was worse than naked, face down and ass up, letting her watch him finger himself. River purred over him, petted him, rubbed his back and legs, telling him how pretty he was, remembering all his scars. Before he knew it he was gasping a counterpoint to the slick noises of three of his fingers working in his ass and it was good that she was watching.

"Tell me you want me," she said, kneeling between his feet on the narrow, stained bunk. Her hands were warm on his ass, kneading and spreading him. "Consent is important. I need to know you want this, baby."

"Fuck me." Jayne was desperate for her now, wanted more of her body and her soft voice and her comforting words. "River, please."

"Good pretty gun." River's dick nudged his fingers aside and he was rewarded with her cry of pleasure as she slid into him. "Both hands on your dick," she said breathlessly. "Gentle. Gentle with my baby."

Jayne cupped himself, took his weight on his chest and cheek. River moved slow at first, then she shifted so her thighs were outside his and she was draped over his back, holding him to her. Protecting him while her dick drove into him over and over again.

"That's my sweet Jayne," she murmured. "Don't be afraid anymore. River's here. You remember before when they came, how I saved you?" He remembered blood and fear and smoke but she ground her hips against him to keep him here and now. "If they come, I'll kill them. We'll kill them. You'll be the gun and I'll be the blade. Say it."

"I'll be the gun, you'll be the blade." Tremors ran through Jayne's body, his dick leaked over his fingers, terror and arousal gripped him at once. River held his shoulders hard, pulling herself into him deep, and she kept talking.

"When they come, you'll kill them," she promised breathlessly. "Vera in your hands like thunder wrapped in steel. Red blood, white bone flying. Take ‘em out at the knees, son, let ‘em crawl, let ‘em bleed. You'll be scared, so scared, guts like water piss your pants scared. Load and fire, hands numb, walls bloody."

"River." His whimper was lost in the fall of her hair over his face. He was that scared right now, thighs shaking as the memories gripped him, and still the need to come was building in his balls.

"I'll come for you." She kissed his ear, then tongued it wetly with a moan. "I'll be the blade, I'll come with the axe and the knife and the sword. Cut their throats, spill their guts, silver edge cutting from crotch to notch open up their evil and secrets all over the floor, crush their hot hearts under my boots, turn the tide."

"Fuck. Fuck." Jayne couldn't make words, couldn't think. His hands were tight around his dick now, jerking off with one hand and holding back with the other. "River, yes."

"Jayne, yes." River's breath shook like it did before when she was about to come. She fucked him so hard the air went out of him with each thrust, she was so damn strong. "You and me, Jayne and River, rivers of blood. They're so hungry but we feed them their flesh and our weapons, cram it all down until they die choking."

Now Jayne was the loud one, echoing her promises mixed with curses. This was the praying he needed. Yes, River, yes, kill ‘em all, make ‘em scream, make ‘em bleed.

"Promise me, baby," she ground out, one hand on his neck now and one hand on his hip as she rode him. "Tell me you're my gun, tell me you're mine, and then you can come."

"River, yes." His mantra, his ward against the terror of their teeth and the memory of their flesh-rot breath. River, yes. "I'm yours, your gun, just tell me, tell me…" Spunk spilled over his hands and his ass clenched around her dick.

"They'll never take you alive, baby," she promised him as he writhed on her dick. "I'll kill you dead with my bare hands before they touch you."

That was all he needed, that and the way she pounded his ass as she came dragging nails sharp like knives, like promises, down his back.

The next pounding was Mal's fist on his door while Jayne lay collapsed under River's limp, trembling body.

"Jayne, open up! What the hell?"

"Jayne, are you all right?" Zoe was with him, too, and Jayne was laid here his mouth so dry from sex he couldn't make a goddamn word.

"Go away." River could talk for both of them. "We're fucking."

"You're what?" Mal's voice hit a whole new high note.

"Well, I'm fucking him," River clarified. "Now go away because I'm gonna do it again."

"The what now?" Jayne tried to move but she was fucking heavy for someone so small and his cheek was grinding into Vera hard enough he was gonna have a mark. At least Mal and Zoe were making a retreat.

"Beer first." River pulled out with an obscene noise, then slapped his ass. "Look at that ass. All mine, baby. Beer, and then I'm gonna fuck you again."

 


End file.
